


G.I. Jeff From the Other Side

by enbyabed



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Abed Nadir - Freeform, Community - Freeform, Episode: s05e11 G.I. Jeff, Gen, Jeff Winger Has Issues, Troy Barnes - Freeform, Troy and Abed in the Morning, annie edison - Freeform, britta perry - Freeform, jeff winger - Freeform, tw alcohol, tw hospitals, tw needles, tw pills, tw suicide, tw vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24874249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyabed/pseuds/enbyabed
Summary: please check the tags for trigger warnings!!this fic is how jeff is found in community ep 511 (g.i. jeff)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	G.I. Jeff From the Other Side

Britta Perry taps her hands against the steering wheel rhythmically and huffs out a breath. Jeff won’t answer his phone, and now they’re going to be late to the movies. The rest of the group is already there, and they’re impatiently texting their group chat. 

She listens to the tone ring through and it goes to Jeff’s voicemail. 

“Hey, this is Jeff. Call me back, or don’t. Makes no difference to me.” 

Britta huffs in frustration. Does he not care about her time at all? The voicemail beeps. 

“Listen, Jeff, you rude piece of shit, do you not care about how we’re all waiting for you? You said you would text me when i had to pick you up but now we’re 25 minutes late at least and I’m starting to think you’re just blowing us off. This is so typical of you, you know that? I shouldn’t expect anything else, honestly. You’re glued to your fucking phone, you could at least answer it. I’m going over there to get you, so be read-“ 

The recording times out and Britta smacks her free hand against the steering wheel. What the fuck, Jeff? 

Britta’s pretty much fuming by the time she pulls up to his apartment building. He couldn’t even answer her? The group chat has gone silent since the movie already started. She runs her hands through her hair in frustration. 

She doesn’t even bother knocking, she just tries to push the door open. It’s locked. That’s strange, but whatever. She has a spare key in her purse. She unlocks the door and yells into the living room. “Winger, I’m gonna beat your ass!”

But there’s no answer so she wonders if he’s even home at all. 

She pushes open the bedroom door, a wave of hot air hitting her. Jeff is always warm when he sleeps, like he’s doing right now. He’s on his side in bed, facing the wall. It’s hard to see where she’s walking in the dark, and the smell hits her first. In the reflection of his mirror, she can see Jeff’s face. It takes her a moment to register how pale it is, almost blue. Her heart skips a beat. 

And in an instant, she’s scrambling across the bed, rolling him out of his own vomit and yelling at him to please, please wake up. He doesn’t. Tangled in his comforter, a pill bottle. It’s empty. 

She calls an ambulance, fingers shaking, hyperventilating. It takes her three tries to get the number right. She’s pleading with the operator to help him please, because she can’t lose her best friend. They ask her to stay calm, to answer their questions. 

“Is he breathing?” asks dispatch, and Britta is shaking while she tries to find his pulse. His neck is covered in vomit and she gags at the smell. 

She sends a text to the group chat as well, they say they’re on their way. 

The ambulance is there first of course, and Britta’s hand is ripped away while they load him onto the stretcher, tubes being shoved down his throat and into his nose. Paramedics are moving quickly at all sides as they stabilize his neck and hoist him onto the stretcher. She sits on the floor, disheveled, sobs racking her body. 

As the stretcher gets taken into the hallway, the rest of the group is running up the stairs. At the sight of Jeff looking so small and lifeless, Annie bursts into tears, shoving her face into Troy’s shoulder. He wipes tears from his face before drawing a shaky breath. 

“What happened?” asks Abed, fiddling with his fingers. 

Britta tells them what she saw, about the empty bottle of scotch in his living room. Then they get in the car, and the ride is silent. 

In the waiting room they all look at the floor. There’s no noise besides hospital sounds and their crying. 

“I yelled at him in the car” says Britta quietly, capturing everyone’s attention. 

“On the way to his house, I left him an angry voicemail, angry because he was late. But he wasn’t “late”, he was...” she trails off, and Annie grabs Britta’s hand. 

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.”

“But I did it” says Britta, tears in her eyes. “I said awful things and I can’t take them back and what if he’s gone” she says, her voice cracking at the end. 

“He’s not gone” says Troy, and no one answers. 

“Someone should call Craig.” says Annie. 

A nurse comes to let them know that he’s stable, but that they don’t know when he’ll wake up. She says the amount of alcohol and medication he took could be lethal, but only time will tell. 

An hour in, Abed and Troy start visiting the vending machines. They don’t buy anything, only look at the candies trapped in the springs. Abed traces his finger in a circle to match the outline of the spring, and Troy starts crying. That’s when they choose a new vending machine.

At the two hour mark, Annie’s head starts to sting from the stale light. She asks Britta if she’d like to go for a walk. 

They take the elevator to the next floor. The ride up is silent, both of them shuffling and staring at the floor. When they get out, they realize they’ve found the maternity section. Annie coos at a small baby behind the glass, smiling slightly. 

“Would you ever want children?” she asks Britta quietly. Britta cracks her knuckles. 

“Yes. Maybe. Probably? If I find the right person, yes.” she sighs. “Jeff wanted kids, you know?” she says softly to Annie. Annie sucks in a breath, her eyelids fluttering. “He told me one time, after Shirley had her baby. He wanted them so bad.” Britta continues, not noticing the tear that falls down her face. Annie grabs her hand and they stand in silence, looking at the babies swaddled inside. 

At three hours, two seniors come in, sitting across from Shirley. They are crying and talking to each other in a language she doesn’t know. They begin to pray, so Shirley prays with them. She doesn’t know for who, or why, but she hopes they are safe. She prays for everyone to come home safely tonight. 

Craig has been playing games on his phone while Chang watches, but at 5 hours, his battery dies. They sit in silence, feeling the burn of the chemical air in their throats.

Six hours in, everyone is exhausted. They’re sore, and barely awake. A nurse comes to talk to Britta. She asks why no family was filled out under his name. Britta tells her that anyone they would need to contact is already here and the nurse gives her a bitter smile. 

The nurse also tells them that they had to pump his stomach, but if they were ready, they could come see him. There’s no hesitation. 

In the bed, Jeff looks small. Smaller than he probably ever has. The Great Jeff Winger, the persona he always held so high, it meant nothing. At this moment, it meant nothing. His cheeks were rosy and he was breaking a sweat. His head sat at an unnatural angle, like he couldn’t hold it up himself. He couldn’t. His arms stuck out at his sides like a soldier, pricked with needles and bracelets. His heartbeat pulsed rhythmically beside him. 

It was late, and everyone had found a chair to sit in, but no one was sleeping. Annie held his hand on one side. Troy kept his eyes on the ceiling. Abed drew circles on his knees. No one spoke. 

“He’ll be ok, right?” asks Britta into the silence. No one moves. No one says anything. 

“He’s Jeff fucking Winger, we couldn’t get rid of him if we tried.” says Troy. There’s a breath of relief. 

Watching him lay there, so still, Britta can’t help but wonder if he’s dreaming. She hopes that if he is, he’s happy.

**Author's Note:**

> huge thank you to lex (@/rnacden) on twitter for essentially creating this plot:) also a huge thank you to annie (@/stevecried) and em (@/anniecult) also on twt for editing!! 
> 
> if you want to find me my twt is @enbyabed


End file.
